Piers And People
by Simlead
Summary: 'Sam's head rested in the crook of his neck, strands of hair half-out of her messy bun spreading out across his shirt. Blonde against black. The hand on her arm tightened and his chest rose with a yawn.' Sam and Jack spend an evening on Atlantis' pier. Rated T for safety, part of a series but can stand alone if you squint. Night Begins Here, the prequel, can be found on my profile.


**A/N: This wasn't planned. It just happened the way it did and I'm glad of that. ^_^ It was something that just came to me. I had my muse for this series but I didn't want to start The Enquiry or Plastic Box/Alaena yet so this came out. I included both 'Sams' (the one from SGA's characters and the one from the SG1 list) in case someone happens to search one and not the other. This is a crossover, because the series it's set in is also one.**

 **I own nothing. As mentioned in the description, this is Sam/Jack and part of my NBH series. Set after NBH but before anything else. If you're a brilliant squinter, it can be read stand alone. Anyway, enjoy!**

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Sam's head rested in the crook of his neck, strands of hair half-out of her messy bun spreading out across his shirt. Blonde against black. The hand on her arm tightened and his chest rose with a yawn.

"You're still General Stop-Out," she whispered, grinning against his skin.

"I thought we'd forgotten that." The pout was in his voice more than anything.

Shaking her head, she let out a breathy laugh. "Never. Besides, I thought you liked the names I gave you..."

Jack stretched his legs out across the pier they sat on and grinned. "Mmm... I like you more."

There was that laugh again, a little more dazed than usual. "I'm glad. We're...lucky."

"Well, we're alive. That's something, I guess," he quipped, but they both caught the serious note behind the words. They might be alive. Not everyone had been so lucky.

"Yeah. Yeah, we got out alive." She straightened up to look him in the eye, his hand sliding down her arm. "And better for it." Her hand came up to cup his cheek.

"Not sure everybody's thinking of it that way." He leaned into her hand, and looked more at the creases at the edge of her palm than at her face. "How're they doing, anyway?"

A sigh escaped her. Her thumb swept across his cheek once before her hand slid down to rest on his shoulder. "I'm worried about them. They need time but... I'm worried about them."

"Go on." She had to note that the look her wore was one she'd first seen when he started insisting she let the 'technobabble' flow when she talked. "Come on, Sam, out with it."

Her fingers picked at the loose thread on his collar. "Something different's going on this time, Jack. Atlantis always had that kind of independence. But being called a civilisation? A people?"

He shrugged the best he could with her half-snuggled up to him. "Whatever it is, we'll manage."

"I'm not so sure."

The sound of moving ocean filled the next few seconds. Until he said, "Did the Ancients have kids?"

"No, they just pulled an Asgard and repeatedly cloned themselves." She rolled her eyes, casting him a look with a furrowed brow. "Of course they had kids."

"If Atlantis can handle raging Ancient babies, it can handle us and a few coma patients."

The raised eyebrow, that was something she couldn't help. "Didn't have you down as Mister Positive."

"Hey, if you want to dial up that gate and talk to the SGC, go right ahea-" He had one hand up in half a surrender when she cut him off.

"No."

He grinned.

So she couldn't help the trace of a smile either. "No, we need to give our people time to rest."

" _Our_ people? We're adopting them now?"

"Not us, silly." Sam shook her head, the moonlight glinting off some of the brighter locks. "Teyla, Elizabeth and myself. We're...a thing."

"Oh, a _thing_. Why didn't you just say so?"

Leaning back her against hom, she let her voice grow quieter. "I want the people here to be happy. If we have to cut ourselves off from Earth for a while to do that, I think I can live with myself."

"As long as I can live with you, I can live with just about anything." He paused, "You know, 'cause you're a _thing_ now..."

She could've given him a deadly look. Could've. "Your jokes get bad when it gets late."

"Hey, my jokes are my pride and joy."

"I thought I was your pride and joy."

She got a kiss for that. "Oh, you are."

This time, it was her who yawned and murmured, "Well, your pride and joy's tired. Let's get off this pier before it rains and Rodney complains about drainage."


End file.
